Under the Sheets
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: The Newsroom fic. A Will/Mackenzie tag to the episode 'The Blackout Part I: Tragedy Porn'. Inspired by Ellie Goulding's song. A little angsty, very smutty, and very Will/Mackenzie. One-shot.


A/N: So I have been trying desperately to write a Will/Mackenzie story that felt right, and after watching the latest episode, I got this idea and ran with it. If you haven't heard the song, it's 'Under the Sheets' by Ellie Goulding; it was part of a Will/Mack fanmix I saw on tumblr and instantly fell in love with it.

This is a tag to 'The Blackout Part I: Tragedy Porn'; I have no idea how they're handling the blackout on the show, so this is all my idea!

This is a pretty hard M; just remember this is two consenting adults that were in a previous relationship.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The Newsroom, sadly- I wish!

_"We're under the sheets and you're killing me, in our house made of paper, your words all over me," -'Under the Sheets', Ellie Goulding_

* * *

The city was hot, and Mackenzie McHale was uncomfortably warm.

Her blouse stuck to her skin, and she'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail long ago in an attempt to keep her neck cool. She fanned herself with the papers in her hand, closing her eyes and tilting her head back against her chair.

It had been four hours since they'd lost power, and with the back-up generators failing, the top floors of the building were slowly becoming saunas. She swallowed, reaching for the bottle of water on her desk, grimacing when she discovered the liquid had become lukewarm in the damp heat of her office.

She didn't know where Will was, and it suddenly hit her that she didn't really care.

The past week had been a disaster. She was flinging sarcastic remarks at him left and right, and Brian's presence had done nothing to calm her down.

_"I work thirty feet from the life I could have had if I hadn't been so stupid!"_

The words she'd thrown at him in her office still stung her; the truth behind them was a slap in the face. Every time she looked at Will, a place just south of her collarbone ached; she was almost sure it was where her heart was supposed to be. The future they could have had taunted her; the image of him pulling that ring out of the desk, the ring meant for her, solidified the fantasy she saw every time she closed her eyes.

The door to her office shut with a reverberating slam, and she opened her eyes, startled. Will stood in front of her, jacket and tie gone, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Mackenzie swallowed, straightening up in her chair, trying to ignore the warmth pooling between her thighs at the sight of his bare chest, the golden chest hair peeking out from the top.

It sent memories of moments in bed, between the sheets, just the two of them, through her brain, and those thoughts were dangerous. She'd worked hard to have a good, professional relationship with Will, and thoughts of letting him push her up against the sink in her bathroom and take her were not productive to keeping the relationship professional by any means.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me, or would you like to explain to me why you just barged into my office?" she asked, as casually as she could. She cursed the fact that she was wearing a skirt; she pressed her thighs together as she shifted slightly in her seat.

"I know that you're pissed, Mack, so if you could stop throwing a sarcastic remark at me every time someone talks about the show, I'd appreciate it," he said, jaw clenched hard as he shifted his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. She looked at him for a moment, standing slowly, and rounding the desk, sitting on the edge as she observed him. "What?"

"Just waiting for you to finish with some cutting remark I'm sure I deserve," she replied, watching as his eyes flashed and he looked away, jaw muscles flexing.

"I know this isn't what you want-"

"You're damn right it isn't!" she exclaimed, smacking her hand down on her desk, palm stinging against the glass. Will's eyes widened slightly, and she pushed away from the desk, turning to pace. "This isn't _news_, Will- this is ratings! I didn't get into this business for the ratings, I did it to inform the public of the _news_!"

She'd said all this before; it wasn't like he hadn't heard this argument from her within the past week. But she was hot, and tired, and utterly _exhausted_ with trying to keep her personal feelings out of her professional relationship with Will. She turned, looking at his face to catch his mood, almost surprised by what she saw there.

"I know this isn't all your fault; I don't mean to take it out on you," she said with a quiet sigh, placing the back of her hand on her forehead and closing her eyes. She wasn't prepared for the hands on her waist; she wasn't prepared for the smell of Will- pure, unadultered Will- to overwhelm her senses as he pulled her into a gentle hug.

Suddenly, the room didn't seem so hot; all she could focus on was his strong chest brushing hers, the feel of his temple against her own, and the pulse that began to between between her legs as she felt the length of his body pressed against hers. His hands slid up underneath her blouse; she'd untucked it when the heat became too unbearable, and when his palms came in contact with her bare skin, she shivered, despite the moist heat in the air.

"Remember how we used to deal with fights?" he murmured against her ear, hands slipping over her ribs, fingertips firm against her skin. She held her breath, terrified that if she breathed, it would be a whimper. "You, me, and a war in the bedroom."

"I don't see a bedroom," she managed to get out, voice hoarse with arousal; it was unmistakable. Will pulled back, his eyes meeting hers; in his darkened blue eyes, there was an almost predatory look, and her breath caught in her throat and the heat in her stomach pooled even further between her legs.

"If I recall correctly, we used the bathroom too," he replied, and this time his lips made contact with her collarbone. She bit her lip against the cry that threatened to slip out, barely containing the sharp gasp when he nipped at the place where her shoulder met her neck. "There's a bathroom right here."

Her knees went weak, and this time she couldn't stop the small moan that escaped her mouth. Will's hands slid around to her back, falling to her ass and pulling her against him.

"How about we fuck it out?" he asked against her ear, and she gasped at his language, and his hands sliding down her thighs. His lips made their way down the long, elegant column of her neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't imagine anything but Will's mouth on hers, his hands on her skin; him, inside her again. She didn't care that this was probably a one time thing; she didn't care that this was probably fueled by Brian and the heat. She just wanted Will, even if it was just for a little while.

When Will's head moved back up her neck, she used her hands- which had been handing idly at her side the entire time- to maneuver his mouth to hers. The first kiss was searing; he tasted like sweat and cigarette smoke and scotch, and she couldn't get enough of his tongue. It had been so long; so long since she'd felt him against her, tasted him, since she'd truly _touched_ him. She knew it was her own damn fault, but for this moment in time, she could forget about that.

He responded to the kiss easily, hands holding her hips firmly against his, the evidence of how much this was effecting him clear through his dress slacks. Her hands slid into his hair as she pushed her pelvis against his, moaning at the contact she'd missed for so long. He groaned against her mouth, tugging her closer and moving towards the bathroom, remembering that if someone happened to walk into the newsroom right now, a lot of people would see them.

Once the door was shut he pushed her back against it, grabbing her knee and trying to tilt her leg up so he could grind against her. The skirt was too tight though, so he fumbled for the side zipper, tugging it down and pushing the black fabric off her hips, leaving her in startlingly thin royal purple panties. She shifted and her scent floated through the warm, thick air, and he grew even harder; he hadn't thought it was even possible.

Her hands attacked his zipper while he attacked her mouth, once she finally got it down and had unbuttoned his pants, she shoved them down his legs, fingers trailing through the golden hair on his thighs. He pushed her against the sink, fingers flying through the buttons of her blouse, leaving it on her shoulders, but opened. Her bra was nude and lacy, pulling her breasts upwards, and he ran his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them beak beneath the slim cup of the bra.

She retaliated by slipping her hand into his woefully thin boxers; when her warm hand came in contact with him, he hissed against the mouth, biting her lip. She moaned, parting her thighs, inviting him to touch her. He slid a hand down her toned stomach, slipping them directly into the panties; he groaned her name when he discovered how wet she was.

Realizing neither of them could hang on much longer he tugged her panties down her slim legs, turned her around, and yanked off his boxers; she gripped the porcelain edge of the sink, moaning as his fingers got her ready. He looked at her in the mirror; her head was bent and he couldn't find her eyes as he slid home, reveling in her sharp cry of his name and the way her muscles clenched around him.

She was hot and wet and tight and it had been _so long_ since anything had felt so right. In a millisecond he remembered everything she liked; his rhythm increased, and her moans got louder- he had never been more thankful for soundproof glass. She wouldn't meet his eyes in the mirror, but he was desperate to see her pupils contract, to see her biting her lip and the sweat gleam on her brow.

"Mack," he gasped when he could feel that she was close, desperate to see her face as he took her over the edge. She cried out when his hips hit just the right place inside her; she pressed back harder against him, trying to muffle the scream. "Look at me- _Mack_."

He felt her walls clench in the spasms that meant she was there and had to close his eyes as his world exploded; he knew she didn't look up when he said her name. She gasped his name when she fell off the cliff, but wouldn't meet his gaze, instead kept her head down and kept her eyes closed.

When they both came back to earth they were panting, sweat dripping from them. Will's shirt was half undone, Mackenzie's hung all the way open, and he was still inside her. He pulled out gently, cringing when she winced regardless, and gave her some space as she tugged her panties up her legs, rebuttoning her shirt and slipping her skirt back on.

"Mack-"

She shook her head, cutting him off. She wouldn't look at him- _couldn't_ look at him- as she washed her hands, placing some cold water on her neck.

"Don't, Will," she said quietly, sending one quick, sad glance. "You don't have to say anything."

She left the bathroom first, and Will tried not to think about what he was feeling; if he didn't think about it, it didn't hurt.

When he left the bathroom, her office was empty; he wondered where she'd gone. He walked back to his office slowly, hands in his pockets.

It had been a long time sex had felt so good- since _he_ had felt so good. But a twinge of guilt appeared in his stomach at the thought of Mackenzie, and connecting her with just sex. She had never been just sex; she never _could be_ just sex.

He was in love with her still, so much it hurt, and he couldn't do this to her.

* * *

An hour later, it was announced that there was no hope for the return of power, and everyone was ordered to go home. Mackenzie packed her things up quickly, scooted out through the staircase, and tried not to think too hard. She ached a little- it had been a long time since she'd had such good sex- and her chest felt hollow.

It had been easier not to look at him. As much as it ached her to not to see his face, to not watch his eyes as he was pulled over the edge, to not see the way the vein in his neck throbbed when he was out of control. But as long as she didn't see his face, she could pretend it wasn't Will; that this quick, hot tryst in her bathroom hadn't been her romantic, sweet, sexy Will's doing.

She didn't think she could handle it if she had to equate her Will with the man who'd just taken her in the bathroom; who used her. That's why she hadn't looked; that's why she hadn't let him say anything before they parted.

She wasn't paying attention when she got the cab; she just hailed the taxi and slid inside, beginning to state her address when the half-closed door opened, and in slid Will, Lonny right behind him.

He stated his address and when she tried to protest told the cabbie he'd pay him double; she knew she couldn't fight this. She sighed quietly and looked out the window, trying to ignore his presence beside her. He made it difficult; he placed his hand gently on her knee, half-on her skirt, half-off. She shot him a glance, but he was looking out the other window, and Lonny was ignoring them both.

When they got to Will's apartment building he paid the cabbie double and then helped her out, one hand resting gently on her lower back. She didn't know what was happening, but she was hot, tired, and just wanted to curl up in bed for a week (which with her job, was actually only about an hour or two) and forget about her life.

"Will, what are you doing?" she asked tiredly as they rode the elevator up; miraculously, his building had power, and she relished the coolness of the air around her.

"I think it's obvious that currently I'm taking you to my apartment," he said, not looking at her. "Thought you were the smart one out of the two of us."

She frowned, arms folded over her chest. She didn't understand what was going on; she didn't really know if she wanted to.

When the elevator opened on his floor he motioned for her to step out first; she did so with a small sigh, looking around the apartment. If she hadn't thrown everything away, would this be where she called home? Would that beautiful diamond ring be settled on her finger, locking in a wedding band? Would the two of them be coming home to the sound of pattering feet? To a little girl that had Will's blue eyes and a boy with her brunette hair?

The thought made her stomach hurt and her eyes water; she was reminded once again of everything she'd ruined four years ago.

"Will-"

"There's a few new bottles of wine- why don't you pick one, and we'll have it with dinner," Will said, interrupting her. "Italian is on it's way, and I'm sure there's something you can wear in my closet."

Mackenzie looked at him, utterly speechless. His eyes met hers for a few moments, and then he nodded slightly, turning around and disappearing to his bedroom. When she could finally command her feet to walk she headed to the kitchen, finding a bottle of red wine and uncorking it, pouring it into two glasses she found.

Will came into the kitchen a few minutes later dressed casually in a pair of khaki shorts and a tight navy blue t-shirt, and told her he'd put some clothes on the bed that she might want to wear. She took her wine glass, and upon entering his bedroom found an assortment of t-shirts, a few tank tops, and some shorts.

She swallowed, breathing deeply for a moment before grabbing a black t-shirt and a pair of gray shorts, changing quickly and padding barefoot back into the kitchen, needing more wine.

"Food should be here-"

"Will, I can't do this," she said, cutting him off. She set her glass on the counter, meeting his confused eyes. "I can't have our relationship be a few bathroom fucks a month; I couldn't take it. I know I lost you four years ago, and I hate myself for it every day. But I love you, and I can't be your- your pity fuck when you have a bad day, or a bad week. We were partners, equals once, and I know I screwed that up! I've already taken full responsiblity, even if you won't accept it. And...as good as the sex is, I can't lose the man you were to me four years ago when you were actually in love with me. I just...I can't do it Will, I can't."

He let her speak without interrupting, but he did move closer as she neared the end. She'd just finished talking when he cupped her cheeks, tilting her head backwards and kissing her gently. The kiss caught her by surprise; she went still with shock, barely returning it. He seemed to understand though; he pulled back, still framing her face, blue eyes meeting hers.

"You could never be just sex to me, Mackenzie," he said quietly, and she could see the truth shining there in his eyes. "You're not my 'pity fuck' and you never could be. You're the woman I fell in love with four years ago, and never fell out of love with. Yes, you hurt me- but as you said, you've taken full responsibility, even if I shouldn't let you. It wasn't all your fault, the way things happened; I should shoulder some blame too."

Mackenzie didn't know what to say; the tears that brimmed on the edge of her eyelids wouldn't fall, and she struggled to keep it together.

"You're still my partner and my equal," he finished quietly, blue eyes softer than she'd seen them in months- in years, actually. "No one else could ever fill that role but you."

That did it- the drops that had pooled in the corners of her eyes slid down her cheeks, silent tears (of happiness or sadness, she didn't really know). Will brushed them away gently with his thumbs, and she slid her hands over top his, reveling in his skin against hers. Her eyes locked with his, though her vision was blurred slightly with the tears, and she offered him a watery smile.

"I love you too," she said, voice breaking slightly as she said the words she'd been longing to for years. His lips curled upwards into that smile he reserved only for her, and she couldn't help but smile fully in return. He pulled her closer gently, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before hugging her tightly, his head resting on top of hers.

He let her cry quietly for a few minutes, holding her close to him, dropping a few kisses onto her hair. When she finally had control of herself she took a deep breath and pulled back slightly; he brushed the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail away from her face, fingertips lingering gently on her face.

"Why now?" she asked quietly, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him. She didn't want to ruin or lose this moment, but she had to know.

"I'm sick of holding my hand over the candle flame," he replied simply after a few moments of silence. She looked confused, but he didn't want to explain it at the moment. "Are you hungry? The food should be almost here."

She takes a moment to think it over, and raising her eyes to meet his, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth.

"Mack?" Will asks, the look in her eyes one he thinks he remembers.

"I just want you," she murmurs, voice so soft he almost can't hear. His eyes darken a shade, and he swallows, one eyebrow rising in question. "It's been a long time since I've truly made love. Why don't you remind me how it's done?"

How can he pass up an offer like that? After telling Lonny to grab the food and stuffing a few bills in the bodyguard's hand he follows Mackenzie to the bedroom, his hand held loosely in hers; she's comfortable, relaxed, her hair released from it's ponytail and cascading down her shoulders.

She turned to him when they reached his bedroom, smiling at him, and she looked radiant.

This time, it was slow; once the door was shut behind them, the world was quiet and soft around the edges. She dug through his old collection of CDs, finding some disk of cheesy love songs she'd added to his collection years ago, and popped it into the player. When the strains of piano began to play softly in the background and she'd tugged off the baggy shorts she'd chosen, she let him pull her into him, his arms winding around her.

He swayed gently and she followed his lead, head tilting backwards with a soft, melodical laugh that went straight through to his soul; it was a sound he was determined to hear every day for the rest of his life. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, moving up to the corner of her mouth, planting tiny kisses on her skin along the way.

When his eyes met hers again they were dark and wide, aroused and content. He kissed her lips and guided her to the bed; helping her onto the edge gently, they crawled together to lay side by side, legs entwined and noses touching. They helped each other get rid of their clothing, the cotton of his sheets cool against their hot skin.

Mackenzie pulled him atop her, legs coming up to cradle his hips as he sank inside of her. She gasped his name, her head tilting back against his pillow. He pressed his lips to her neck, breathing harshly as he pulled back and thrust deeper, his stroke hitting her clit and making her whimper. One hand cradled his neck while the other intertwined with his; he used his free hand to brace himself above her, pushing his hips against hers.

She couldn't get enough friction; she angled her hips, desperate to feel more of him- to take him deeper, harder, faster. He seemed to sense her frustration; he carefully rolled them so she was on top, using his hands to guide her. She placed her palms against his chest, pushing her hips down onto his, gasping his name in pleasure as he hit all the right places inside her.

"_Will_," she gasped, rocking against him, eyes falling half-shut as she began to fall apart, her world fracturing into pieces as she lost sense of everything except Will. "Oh- right there- don't- don't _stop_, Will, _please_."

"Mack- can't- last," Will gritted his teeth, surging up against her, feeling how close she was. Her cries got higher and higher pitched, his name leaving her lips like it had been formed purely for that purpose.

When he knew she was right at the edge he rolled them, tilting her hips and thrusting harder inside her, rewarded with her sharp cry of his name as she came apart underneath him. He helped her through the aftershocks, clenching his jaw to control himself, making sure she was satisfied before letting himself go at her urging.

She encouraged him, hands running down his back, along his chest, her teeth nipping at his ear and neck, her lips moving against his ear as she asked him to come for her. He couldn't fight any longer and surrendered; she clenched around him, her heat drawing him in.

He collapsed against her, breathing hard as his heart raced. Mackenzie's arms wrapped around his torso, and he rolled them gently, staying inside her, but laying them on their sides. She buried her nose in his neck, her breath warm against his collarbone.

Will pulled the sheets up around them, holding her close and relishing the feeling of being inside her. She pushed her hips more firmly against his; clearly, she didn't want the connection to end anymore than he did.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, eyes tracing her face, the way her teeth sank lightly into her lip, the softness that encompassed her eyes, the lines of her cheekbones. Her eyes met his, full of love and life and everything he ever wanted. Her cheeks colored even pinker than they had been before, her nose wrinkling adorably as she accepted the compliment.

His fingers found the scar that hadn't been there last time they'd made love; the knife would from covering a protest. She closed her eyes as he ran his fingers over her torso and abdomen, a gentle exploration.

"I think we should go get that food from Lonny," she said after a few more moments of blissful silence, her eyes still closed. He kissed each eyelid, then her nose, then each corner of her mouth, before giving her a deep, drawn-out kiss that got a low moan out of her that made him begin to harder again inside her. She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her face, and he rolled his eyes. "Or we could just stay in bed and you can let me starve."

"What if we ate in bed?" he compromised, and her lips curved upwards, eyes glittering just like he remembered. She rolled them unexpectedly, hips pushing up against his, feeling him begin to lengthen inside of her.

"After," she said simply, and he had no arguments.

They still had things to talk about; nothing was ever simple. But both were content in the knowledge that things were as they should be once again; they were together, they were happy, and they could make this work.

It was enough.

* * *

_"Wake you up, in the middle of the night to say, 'I will never walk away again; I'm never gonna leave this bed'," -'Never Gonna Leave This Bed', Maroon 5_


End file.
